A Tale of Lightwoods, Herondales, and Fairchilds
by heavenlyshadows
Summary: A collection of one-shots surrounding our favorite Mortal Instruments families.
1. I'll Always Remember

Simon's mother had once told him that we only fall in love three times in our life, each for a different reason.

The first love comes early in our life and it seems like a perfect fairytale, but when it comes to an end it's abrupt and heartbreaking. The second love will last longer. This love will help you mature and become strong but it doesn't last. The third love you never see coming. It comes easy, naturally, and it's an infinite connection that can't be explained. It's meant to be.

The more he thought about it, he realized his mother had been right.

Clary had been his first love, his best friend who he had been in love with since they were little. He had been thrilled when she had decided to give him a chance, but eventually, he had realized that no matter how much she cared about him, she would always love Jace more.

Maia came next. She wasn't like any girl he had ever met. She was smart and nerdy, and funny, and she understood what it was like to live a life you never wanted. The life of a Downworlder. She understood him in a way that even Clary never could, and he had loved her, but it hadn't been enough.

Isabelle had surprised him. Even though he had known the Shadow World was full of magic, he didn't think there was any world where a girl like Isabelle Lightwood would fall for a guy like him. Even before he had met Izzy, Simon had always thought he knew what he wanted. He never would have imagined himself wanting to live a life he had thought only existed in D&D, giving up his dream of being a rockstar and promising to fight the evil things that went bump in the night in order to create a better life for his son.

A son whose ear-piercing cries were waking Simon up for the third time that night.

Simon sighed and opened a single eye, his sight immediately adjusting to the darkness, Though he had been a Shadowhunter for nearly six years, there were still things about it that surprised him. Like when his eyes immediately adjusted to his surroundings, even in the dark, without his glasses.

He waited for a moment, expecting Isabelle to wake up, but she stayed asleep, her soft snores barely audible over the sound of their son's crying. A part of him was jealous, wishing he was able to sleep through the screaming as she could, but the larger part of him felt bad because he knew she was exhausted. So, heaving another heavy sigh, Simon got up out of the bed and silently padded across the room towards the crib. Yet another thing that surprised him. If it wasn't for the Soundless rune etched into the skin of his upper arm, his loud, clumsy footsteps would have woken Izzy up for sure.

The infant's cry ceased as soon as he was picked up and Simon almost laughed. His son was like Isabelle in almost every way, down to the curl of his eyelashes, but he and Simon did have one thing in common: sometimes they simply wanted comfort.

The day he was born was both the happiest and most terrifying day of Simon's life. He hadn't been able to believe he was going to be a father and couldn't wait to see what his son would look like, who he would be.

But it also scared the hell out of him.

Thoughts that had kept him up at night raced through his head at a million miles an hour. _What if I screw up? What if something happens to him? What if something happens to me?_

The last question was the one that haunted him the most. His father had died when he was young and he knew how much it sucked to grow up without one. Not only that, but Shadowhunters lived a dangerous life. They married young, had children young because they might die young. Isabelle's little brother, Max, had been proof of that.

All his fears had been forgotten when he saw him, with his dark hair and brown eyes that were so much like Isabelle's it was hard to believe Simon was any part of him at all. Simon didn't think he had ever seen anything so beautiful or loved anything so much in his life. He was completely happy.

That had changed when Clary had asked him what the baby's name was. He had paused because truth be told he hadn't thought too hard about it. Before he could say anything though, Isabelle, her eyes closed and her voice drawn and exhausted, had said, "George. Let's call him George."

Simon had stared at her. George Lovelace had been the brother he never had, the only friend who hadn't known him as a Daylighter and hadn't looked at him as a hero he didn't remember being. Even nearly a decade after his friend's death, the idea of him being gone made Simon's heart twist painfully. There were nights when he still woke up from dreams of what happened in the Accords Hall that day with tears streaming down his face, times, when he would remember something from his days at the Academy and turn to share it with George only to find that he couldn't, because that was all George, was now. A memory.

Isabelle knew that. She knew what the significance of naming their son after his friend would be for Simon. But she didn't say anything else, so he nodded. "George. George Lewis Lovelace Lightwood." Clary had given him a sad smile. "It's perfect."

And just then, from over her shoulder, in the corner of the infirmary, Simon saw him.

George.

He was exactly as Simon remembered him. Light, curly hair, tanned skin stark against his rumpled polo shirt, and a slouching posture that made him appear shorter than he was. He was smiling, leaning against the wall with his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans, watching Simon as he held his son close to his chest. His expression was one of gratitude, and when he opened his mouth to speak, though there was no sound, Simon understood every word.

"Thanks, mate."

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell his friend that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to, but the words wouldn't come out. But George seemed to understand Simon as Simon had understood him, and with a wink, he pushed himself off the wall and disappeared altogether, gone as quickly as he had appeared.

The sound of Little George beginning to cry again broke Simon out of his thoughts. The baby's arm had come free of his blanket and he was waving a small, angry fist in the air, narrowly missing Simon's chin. "Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shhhhhh." Simon said softly. "It's okay. It's okay." He smiled down at the infant, bouncing him as he remembered when he and George had found Max on the doorstep of the Academy, and George's first thought had been that they could raise the warlock together in their sock drawer.

"Someday," he told his son. "Someday I'll tell you all about him. Who he was, what happened to him." He sighed and pressed a kiss to George's dark hair, setting him in his crib with as much care as possible. _Infinitely better than a sock drawer_. Simon thought, almost smugly, as he paused, waiting for the baby to wake up again. Even when he didn't, Simon didn't move. He simply stood, watching out the window as the clouds passed over the moon.

"Hey." Simon jumped slightly as Isabelle came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He smiled faintly, placing his hands over hers where they rested on his chest. "You okay?" she asked. "Yeah. I miss him so much. I wish he could be here to see this." He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand, because she knew. Isabelle always knew. She sighed and laid her head between his shoulder blades. "He would have been proud of you, you know. I am."

Simon turned so he was facing her. "What did I ever do to deserve a woman like you?" Izzy shrugged nonchalantly. "You did save the world." "I'm serious." He leaned down so his forehead was resting against hers. "I love you." She stretched up on her toes and kissed him softly, looking up at him with loving dark eyes. "I know. I love you too."


	2. A Very Merry Christmas

New York was the best place to be in the winter months when the snow fell and the city was covered in twinkling lights. The beauty of the East Coast was nothing compared to Alicante, but the Glass City had never felt like home. As Alec walked through Central Park on his way back to his apartment, he pulled his coat tighter around himself, or rather Magnus' coat. He hadn't seen his boyfriend or his boys for more than a few hours in the past week. It was as if one problem after the next had kept piling up, and now Alec wanted nothing more than to go home and be with his family.

A family that nearly tackled him the moment he walked in the door.

"Daddy!" Max and Rafael jumped up from where they had been playing on the floor at Magnus' feet and ran into Alec's open arms. "Hey boys." He smiled and pulled them close, only breaking away when he saw Magnus standing behind them.

"Hey, you." He leaned forward and brought his mouth to Magnus', tasting the wine he had been drinking on his lips. He deepened the kiss, pulling Magnus closer and for a moment his senses blurred. It was amazing how after all the years they had been together, just one kiss could send Alec back to the teenager he had been when they met, so completely in love that the world around him fell away.

Magnus chuckled and put his hands on Alec's chest, pushing him away gently. "As much as I would like to continue _this,_ " he smiled suggestively, "our apartment is looking a bit festively void." Alec sighed, glancing around the loft. The only sign it was Christmas Eve at all was a sadly bare Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. They had both been so busy they hadn't had time to decorate and while pulling away from Magnus felt like torture, it had to be done.

"Alright boys," he said in his best Shadowhunter voice. " This is a big mission. We only have," he paused, glancing at the clock on the microwave in order to do the math correctly. "Five hours until Christmas and the house is severely lacking decoration. Are you up for the challenge?" The boys nodded, trying as hard as possible to be serious. "Alright, let's get to work." He clapped his hands together, and the four of them set to work on hanging garlands in the doorways, sticking silicon snowflakes to the windows, and decorating the tree. The seven-foot fir was strung with twinkling white lights and the multicolored baubles that were mostly congregated on the first three feet, courtesy of Max and Rafael's height, had covered all of them in glitter. Not that Magnus hadn't been anyway.

Alec watched from the kitchen while the boys sat on the floor, laughing as Chairman Meow fought to knock a particularly stubborn blue bauble off the bottom of the tree. He turned to put his arms around Magnus, who stood at the stove mixing a pot of hot chocolate, and smiled when he caught sight of the index card on the counter. It was a hot chocolate recipe written in his mothers small, slanted handwriting, and the words were faded from years of use. Maryse Lightwood had never been a particularly warm person, but she strongly believed that hot chocolate was the cure to everything. She also swore it was the best in the world. Alec laughed, remembering years ago when Clary had convinced his mother to drink the powdered mix Jocelyn had always given her, and Maryse had nearly gagged.

"What are you thinking about?" Magnus asked. "Clary trying to poison my mother." Magnus laughed as he poured the cocoa into four mugs, dropping a handful of miniature marshmallows in each and leaving them on the counter to cool. "You wouldn't believe how many presents she dropped off this morning." Alec shook his head and followed Magnus towards the living room.

Before he could go through the doorway, Alec hooked his finger through the belt loops of Magnus' jeans and spun him so their faces were only inches apart. The warlocks eyes were wide with surprise and wanting. "Alexander…." "You said we would continue this later." He pointed to the mistletoe hanging above their heads. "I think this qualifies as later." "Technically I didn't _say_ that I suggested it but, rules are rules." He grinned and leaned up to kiss Alec, soft and sweet and slow.

They broke apart when Alec felt something tugging on his sweater. They glanced down to see their sons looking up at them hopefully. "Dad? Papa? Can we open presents now?" Alec laughed. "Yes, you can open _one_ ," he held one finger up to emphasize his point. "Present, but then its time for bed, it's after eight." The five and seven-year-old nodded excitedly and ran back into the living room, sliding across the carpet and digging through the massive pile of presents under the tree to find the one they wanted to open. Alec's eyes widened. "Are those _all_ from my mother?" Magnus chuckled and picked up the cocoa mugs. "No. Some of them are from us and your siblings." The dark-haired Shadowhunter groaned and put his head in his hands. How much damage had his mother caused?

He stopped the thought before it even started, deciding it was a problem for another day and sat beside Magnus on the couch, accepting the mug his boyfriend handed him. He felt the warmth spread through his body as he sipped from it and found himself remembering the Christmas' he and his siblings had spent at the Institute when they were younger. They had never had a tree and their parents had never told them that Santa was going to bring them presents while they slept, but every year they had gone to Central Park on Christmas Eve and ice skated and looked at the lights that adorned the trees and illuminated the frosty sidewalks in warm white and multicolored light. When they had returned to the Institute, they would sit in Jace and Alec's room, sipping hot chocolate and reading from a battered mundane Christmas book that Alec still had.

The very same book Max and Rafael were demanding Alec read to them before they fell asleep. Their eyes were closed before he even got halfway through the book, though he couldn't blame them. He was exhausted.

Once he was back out in the living room, he collapsed on the couch, laying his head in Magnus' lap.

"I have a present for you." the warlock said after a while.

"Oh really." Alec sat up and watched Magnus disappear into their bedroom and emerge a moment later with a box wrapped in red Christmas paper.

"I wanted to save this for when everyone was here, but we've been waiting for this for so long. I don't want to wait anymore." Alec furrowed his eyebrows but Magnus only shook his head. "Just open it."

Alec slid his thumb under the edge of the wrapping as carefully as possible, tearing the paper until the small wooden box underneath it was revealed. When he opened the lid, he found a piece of paper and an even smaller box, his heart thudding in his chest. "What is this?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He had already guessed and he wanted more than anything to be right, but there was still a flicker of doubt that held him back, the fear that he was wrong.

"That," Magnus said. "is the newest Nephilim law, signed by Consul Jia Penhallow, stating that every Shadowhunter, regardless of their partner's gender, species, or beliefs, reserves the right to be married in gold, as is the custom."

Alec couldn't believe what he was hearing. For so long he had waited for this moment, the moment when he could be with Magnus as his brother and sister could be with Simon and Clary, as his partner, as his husband. Now the moment was here and he had no idea what to say.

Magnus reached forward and pulled the smaller box out of the larger one in Alec's lap, opening it to reveal two identical rings. The Nephilims Wedded Union rune was stamped around the outside of the band and on the inside, the Indonesian words _Aku Cinta Kamu_ were engraved into the gold. Alec didn't move as Magnus slid one of the rings onto Alecs left hand and the other onto his own. "I can't bear runes but…." "It's perfect." Alec cut him off, tears falling from his eyes. "We're getting married?" Magnus nodded, his own eyes glistening. "If you'll have me."

Alec didn't hesitate.

"Yes, yes, of course, yes."

He kissed his fiancee fiercely, a desperate, needy kiss that held all the love and wanting in the world.

His fiancee.

Even before he had fallen in love with a Downworlder, they were words he never thought he would be able to say. Marriage was sacred, the most important bond a Shadowhunter could have with another person, other than _parabatai_. But it was a bond intended for a man and a woman. Many people, including Alec's own father, had made it clear that a gay Shadowhunter wasn't a Shadowhunter at all. But things had changed.

Soon the kiss had intensified and Alec was laying flat on the couch, pulling Magnus' shirt over his head and shoving the box on his lap to the floor with a thud. He ran his fingers over Magnus's skin, tracing patterns over every line and scar. His hands slid up Magnus' sides, over the wings of his shoulder blades, his light touch causing Magnus to shudder. His hand trailed down the warlocks back, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans, and pulled him closer, their kiss intensifying still, a clash of lips and teeth and tongues. Magnus' lips moved away from Alecs to his neck and his chest - a literal path to his heart- as Alec knotted his fists in his fiancee's hair, disturbing the carefully styled spikes. "Magnus," he said breathlessly. "We should probably…. we need to…." the warlock grinned mischievously and stood from the couch, pulling Alec up with him and pushing him back towards their bedroom, never breaking their kiss. Their clothes were off before the door was completely closed.

Alec woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, but it wasn't the nice weather that made him smile. Magnus was still asleep beside him and their hands lay between them, fingers intertwined to reveal the ring on Alec's finger.

His engagement ring.

Magnus' eyes opened and he yawned, stretching like a cat before turning to look at Alec. "Merry Christmas." Alec groaned, knowing that soon their kids would wake up and their family would walk through the door, ruining the perfect moment. So, like any responsible parent, he chose to deny it. "Shh. If you ignore it maybe it will go away." Magnus laughed. "C'mon. I bet Santa came." he teased. "What did you ask him for?" Alec looked from Magnus to the ring on his hand and back, then smiled and kissed him briefly. "Nothing. I have everything I could ever want."


	3. Thank You For Your Service

In the Army, Jace had faced a lot of terrifying things. He had marched into battle, not knowing if he was going to make it out alive, he had laid in the desert of Afganistan as bullets rained down on him, he had carried wounded soldiers to safety, praying to God it wouldn't be his brother he carried out next.

But none of that was as terrifying as what he was about to do.

He was going to see his family.

He hadn't seen Clary or their daughter, Jordan, in eighteen months and as Alec pulled into a parking spot at the high school where Clary taught, the same high school where Jordan was just beginning her senior year, he felt like he was going to throw up. He could see Clarys small blue Honda parked in the row ahead of them, an Idris High School softball team sticker plastered to the back window with Jordan's name and uniform number printed underneath it.

When had Jordan joined the softball team?

It wasn't the only thing Jace had missed. The few times he had been able to Facetime her, Jordan had told him about her first homecoming dance, the award she received as an honor roll student, and her first date with the boy she had liked for years. Clary had gushed about how polite and sweet he was when she had met him and he had tried to act happy, but the reality that he was missing so much of his daughter's life felt like a knife being twisted between his ribs.

They didn't know that he and Alec were coming - Principal Penhallow had invited them to speak at the schools Veteran's Day assembly - and Jace wondered how they would react. Would they be angry he had been gone so long? Would they be upset, knowing that he would eventually have to leave again?

Jace didn't know.

Slowly, he got out of the car and adjusted his uniform, identical to the one Alec wore, walking towards the gym where the assembly was being held. As he approached the door he could hear the last few words of the speech a student was making. "... service to our country. Veterans, thank you for your service." He stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the bleachers crowded with students carefully. He saw Rafael first.

Alecs oldest son was a senior like Jordan and he sat in the front row with her and Max, holding one of their hands in each of his as they all looked solemnly up at the stage. His nephews weren't related by blood but you couldn't tell by looking at them. Both boys had tanned skin, with equally dark eyes and almost black hair, though where Max's was straight and cut short, Rafael's thick curls hung in his eyes despite his best efforts to shake them away.

Though the boys hadn't changed much, his daughter looked like a completely different person. She was taller than she had been the last time he had seen her, taller than Clary by at least a foot, though that wasn't hard, and the tips of her long blonde hair were dyed a deep purple. Physically, the only similarities between them were their height and hair color. Her skin, rather than tan, was pale and freckled, stark against the black leather jacket and jeans she wore, and her eyes were a bright, emerald green.

Eyes that widened the moment she saw him standing in the doorway.

"Dad!" she yelled, yanking her hand from Rafe's and sprinting across the gym with a speed that would have impressed Jace's instructor at boot camp. He had his arms around her in an instant and he could feel tears soaking his uniform as she cried into his shoulder. "You're home, you're really home." Jace nodded, holding her tighter to him. "Yeah baby, I'm home."

Max and Rafe had followed Jordan across the gym when they had seen him and their father and out of the corner of his eye, Jace could see Alec with his arms around his boys, all three of them reduced to tears. The entire assembly had stopped, staring at the family in shock and Jace had just pulled away from Jordan to hug his nephews when he saw a flash of red and Clary body slammed into him, pulling his lips down to hers in a desperate kiss. When he broke it, pulling away just enough to look at her face, he saw that her eyes were red-rimmed and he used his thumb to wipe her tears away.

"Hey, you," he said.

She laughed and hugged him tightly. "Don't ever leave me again."

He hadn't how much he would miss them, how much he would miss holding a person instead of a gun, and being surrounded by buildings and people rather than sand and silence. He knew he couldn't promise that he wouldn't leave again. He knew that one day he and Alec would be sent away from their families to fulfill their promise to protect their country. But for now, he figured it was ok to lie.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	4. A New Man

Alec was pretty sure when Jace's twenty-fifth birthday passed and he was still single, roaming around New York hooking up with every pretty girl he could get his hands on, that his brother was going to die alone. He would hook up with girls, but never go on a date, or get their phone number, or even give them a second glance, getting many drinks and heavy objects thrown at his face in the process. And Jace was fine with it.

Until Clary Fray.

She had been the bartender a Jace's favorite club and from the moment he laid eyes on her, it was as if he were under a spell. He sat at the bar, talking with her until the club closed, brushing off every girl that approached him with a dismissive wave. Alec had expected the strange behavior to end there but it didn't.

Instead of going to bars and clubs on the weekends like he normally would, he was hanging out with Clary, and when he wasn't he was texting her or talking to her on the phone. It wasn't until Alec caught Jace leaving his apartment in a tux that he admitted he was taking Clary on a date that Alec realized why his brother was acting so strange. He was falling in love. And even though Clary and his brother had been together for three years, Jace's behavior still found ways to surprise him. Like now, when he and his sister were walking into the new apartment Jace had bought with Clary a few weeks before.

One step into the space and you could tell it was theirs. There was a small studio piano in the corner and Jace's sheet music cluttered the top of it, as well as the piano bench and bookshelves that also housed endless piles of CDs Jace had collected throughout his life and boxes of Clary's art supplies. One of her pieces hung on the wall above the couch Jace sat on, surrounded by photos of Clary and Jace's travels around the world, Simon and Izzy at various concerts and fashion shows, Alec and Magnus with their boys, and one of all of them, their arms around each other, smiling as the ball dropped behind them on New Years. The kitchen looked hardly used as neither Jace or Clary really knew how to cook but an array of takeout menus lay spread out on the counter.

"Hey," Jace stood from the couch and picked up the TV remote, pausing the screen on the Giants game he had invited them over to watch. "I'm glad you guys are here. You want a drink or anything?" Alec and Izzy both accepted a beer, exchanging a questioning look as Jace grabbed three bottles from the fridge.

He sounded nervous in a way they didn't understand. This was Jace, their cocky, arrogant brother whose head barely fit through the door, his ego was so inflated, and Clary had gone Christmas shopping with Simon so it was only Alec and Iz there.

So why was he so anxious?

They were halfway through the game before Izzy called him on it. "Ok, what is going on?" Jace frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why are we here? The three of us haven't watched a game together since we were teenagers and you don't even like the Giants."

"Maybe I just wanted you to see the place." Jace quipped and Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Jace I'm not stupid. If you wanted us to see the place you would have waited till we came over with everyone else on Friday for Christmas, so what's going on? Did something happen?" Her voice shifted from suspicious to concerned and Jace sighed, setting his beer on the chipped wood coffee table. "No, nothing happened." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "I'm going to ask Clary to marry me."

Alec nearly spit out his beer.

He liked Clary, considered her one of his best friends even. She was sweet and funny and she made his brother happier than he had been in a long time, but this was Jace. His brother who for years had sworn since they were teenagers that marriage was a trap and was doomed to end badly. But here he was, holding an engagement ring.

Isabelle had the opposite reaction of Alec. She squealed and threw her arms around her brother, nearly snatching the box out of his hands and flipping it open to reveal the ring inside. It was simple; a silver band with a small single emerald and Alec already knew Clary would love it.

Izzy gasped. "Jace it's beautiful."

For the first time since they walked through the door, the blonde smiled. "Yeah." He paused, biting his lip. "Do you think she'll say yes?" He met Alec's eyes over Izzy's head and Alec didn't hesitate before saying yes. When his brother still looked unsure, he sighed. "Jace, Clary loves you and you love her. If she didn't want to be with you I don't think she would have spent the past three years leading you on." He paused. "Just ask her."

For a moment the three of them sat in silence, the football game nothing but background noise and it was almost peaceful. Until Isabelle ruined it.

"But if you decide to be an ass and hurt her, I will kill you."

Jace put his hand over his heart, staring at her with a fake wounded expression. "Where is the loyalty?" He scoffed and looked up at Alec, who couldn't help but smirk. "Can you believe this? Betrayed by my own sister." Izzy rolled her dark eyes as he put the ring box back in his pocket and punched him in the arm affectionately.

"Whatever."

The three of them were still laughing when Clary and Simon walked through the door, their arms full of shopping bags. "Don't look, don't look!" Clary cried as she disappeared into the guest room and emerged a moment later empty-handed. "Hey." Jace said standing from the couch. He moved towards her but his foot caught on the leg of the coffee table and the ring box went flying out of his sweatshirt pocket, rolling onto the rug for everyone to see. Clary bent to pick it up before Jace could, her mouth falling open as she realized what it was. She reminded Alec of a fish.

"Yes."

Her voice was so quiet that he almost didn't hear her. But Jace had. His face lit up and he gave a strangled laugh. "You didn't even open it."

"I don't have to."

In less than a second, she had closed the space between them, bringing her lips to Jace's. They were so wrapped up in each other that Alec was positive they didn't notice when he and his sister stood from the couch and left with Simon in tow.


	5. A Thousand Pages

Death wasn't what Magnus expected.

He expected his life to flash before his eyes, or to see a white light, or the ghost of someone he loved reaching for him as he took his last breath.

That didn't happen.

Instead, he lay in the alley where the Ravenor demon had attacked him, and stared up at the stars, his breath getting shallower as the night sky and the shadows of the alley blurred together and everything faded away.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a place he had never seen before. It appeared to be a library, the expansive walls containing row after row of bookshelves, crammed with brown leather hardbacks, each ranging in thickness. There were words inscribed on the spines but Magnus was too far away to make them out.

It was then that he realized someone was with him.

When he turned to face them, his first thought was that it was Alec. Black swirling runes could be seen on his pale skin and his dark hair was messy, hanging into his eyes which were crinkled at the edges with laugh lines. But the smirk on this man's face was one that belonged to only one Shadowhunter family.

It wasn't Alec.

It was Will Herondale.

"Hello, old friend."

Magnus smiled, completely speechless and wrapped his arms around the other man. When he pulled away, Will was shaking his head as if he had seen something quite unbelievable. "So this is it?" Magnus nodded then frowned. "Where are we?" Will grinned further and spread his arms, a grand gesture to the shelves of novels around him. "The Afterlife. Well, at least a part of it." When it was clear that Magnus still didn't understand Will strolled over to one of the shelves and tapped the spine of a book with his finger. Magnus was close enough now to see the engraving on the spine wasn't just words but a name;

 _William Herondale._

"I once told Tessa that life was a book," Will said. "And that there were a thousand pages I had not yet read. I didn't realize how accurate it was at the time." His smile turned nostalgic as he made a circular gesture with his hand. "Every one of these books is another person's life story; someone we loved," He pointed to the book next to his, almost twice the thickness, with the name _James Carstairs_ written on it. "Someone we never knew," he pointed to the left, indicating a book with a name Magnus didn't recognize.

"They're all here." He was looking around in awe and Magnus couldn't help but be amazed by it himself. He had lived for centuries, met and loved hundreds, if not thousands of people and they were all here. People he had once thought were gone forever were now being given back to him. Suddenly, he had an idea. He walked past the rows as quickly as possible, scanning the spines until he found the name he was looking for:

 _Alexander Lightwood_

He opened the book carefully despite his eagerness and found, not words, but images, memories of the person Magnus loved most; the countless missions with Simon, and Clary, and his siblings, the many mornings and evenings spent with Max and Raphael and the evenings spent alone when they grew up, the work he had done both before and after he was made Consul.

And Magnus. Over half the book was full of Magnus; their first date when Alec fell down the stairs, the chaotic night with his family when they decided to adopt Max, their wedding in Los Angeles. And the last moment, when the Silent Brothers had said there was nothing more they could do for him and he had laid, by then old and gray, surrounded by Magnus and their children and grandchildren as he took his final breath.

They had scattered his ashes in the Silent City, a right Alec had once thought he wouldn't be allowed, with Jace and his parents and his little brother Max and Magnus remembered wanting to leave. He remembered telling Tessa after Will had died that the older she got, the easier it would be to lose people she loved.

Oh, what a joke that had been.

Despite all the centuries he had been alive, the many years he had spent preparing himself to live a life without Alec in it, the moment he realized Alec was gone he had cried. A sorrowful, helpless cry that had lasted for hours and left him with a wound that, even a hundred years later left him raw.

But he didn't have to live that way anymore. He didn't have to live in a world without his boys, Rafe who had lived a long mortal life and Max who had lived an all too short immortal one, Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray, Clary and Jace Herondale, Henry Branwell, Simon and Isabelle Lightwood. And Alec. Always Alec.

There were things about life that he would miss; His apartment, that had seen the many evolutions of his life, a constant reminder of the family he never thought he would have, all the years of joy and laughter and love. He would miss Jem Carstairs cat and Catarina Loss, his oldest friend. But there were people on the Other Side that he wasn't willing to wait for anymore.

Magnus smiled and closed his eyes, holding the book tightly to his chest. When he opened them again he caught Will staring and moved his hands to show his friend the name on the spine of the book.

"Ah," Will said. "That boy you love." He put his hand over his heart, acting as though he were going to faint. "And to think, after all the years we knew each other you married a _Lightworm._ " Magnus stared. He hadn't expected Will to know about Alec. The Shadowhunter saw his surprise and laughed. "You may not have seen me Magnus but _I_ saw _you._ You were happy." He paused, adding almost as an afterthought. "He's handsome too. I'm glad to see Cecily's descendants inherited the Herondale genes," Magnus rolled his eyes at the arrogance in his voice. "Though I can't figure out how mine ended up _blonde._ "

Magnus chuckled. "So you've seen them?"

Will nodded. "I've been here a long time. I've read each and every story." He gestured again to the novels around them, arranged in no apparent order. Magnus saw many names he recognized as his gaze followed Will's finger; _Jace Herondale, Charlotte Branwell, Emma Carstairs._

"They're the same story," Will said matter-of-factly. "From different points of view." He grinned, backtracking to where Alec's story had left a hole among the stories of his siblings and friends. "I call these The Mortal Instruments," he then indicated the books above them, his own story. "The Infernal Devices." He moved back to tap Emma Carstairs and the Blackthorns books. "The Dark Artifices." Then he stopped in front of Magnus's story, and pulled it from the shelf, clearly struggling with its weight for a moment before regaining his composure. "And this," he said. " This I call The Bane Chronicles."

Magnus opened his mouth to respond, but the words were lost when another voice sounded. "So Papa gets his own series huh? He must be pretty special."

It was Raphael and beside him was Max.

Magnus dropped Alec's book to the floor with a resonating thud and ran, flinging himself at his sons and hugging them to him as if they were a lifeline. "My boys, my boys." He whispered, only quieting when he saw the man behind them.

This time it really was Alec.

His hair was pushed back from his face, ruffled from constantly running his hands through it - a nervous habit Magnus had tried and failed to break him of for years - allowing Magnus to clearly see his eyes, the same intense blue as the ocean. He was smiling his beautiful, crooked smile and on his left hand, shoved halfway into the pocket of his jeans, Magnus could see the glint of his gold wedding ring, engraved with the Wedded Union rune of the Nephilim. He was wearing one of his god-awful sweaters and for the first time in their life together Magnus didn't care.

Because Alec was here.

In less than an instant, Magnus had closed the space between them and kissed him. It was a desperate kiss, filled with longing and grief and all the years of time that had separated them. When they broke apart, Magnus gripped Alec's shoulders tightly as if when he loosened it Alec would disappear. "Alexander." He reached up to cup Alec's face and the Shadowhunter leaned into his touch.

"You're here." He hadn't realized he was crying until Alec wiped his tears away. "Yeah, I'm here." And suddenly, his expression grew somber. "Are you ready for this?"

Magnus remembered what like a lifetime ago when they had been trapped in a demon realm with no way out when Magnus had told Alec that he had to go back to the world. He remembered what Alec said next more clearly than anything in his very long life.

 _I don't want the world I want you._

Will had said that life was a book and Magnus had had one hell of a story, but it was over. Yes, there were things about life that he would miss but he couldn't go back. And even if he could he wouldn't want to. Because there was nothing he would ever want more than Alec.


	6. His Brother's Keeper

Max was pretty sure his dads were going to kill his brother.

Max and Raphael were not the kinds of kids who got into trouble, so sitting outside his Uncle Jace's office while awaiting punishment for fighting was a new experience for them. Technically, it wasn't even Max who had been fighting. It was his brother.

The same brother who was sitting beside him in a hard plastic chair, flexing his bleeding knuckles to keep them from shaking in rage. This surprised Max. Raphael was usually like their dad, calm and rational and peaceful but today had been different. Max would have given anything to forget about today.

"Are you ok?" he asked his brother.

Like their dad, Rafe deflected the question. "Are you?"

So much for forgetting about today.

Max nodded but Rafe saw right through him, fixing him with a look that said _Do you really think I'm that stupid?_ "Max," Rafe said in his seventeen-year-old, concerned older brother way. "You don't need to lie to me." Max looked down at his hands, studying the navy blue skin, the new and old scars from years of training. He had always known he was different and he had never minded it. He had always liked being able to do magic and learn things from his Papa that Rafe and the other kids at the Institute couldn't. But it was when the other kids started to notice when they called him names like demon spawn and threw unwarranted kicks and punches at him that he really started to hate it.

He had tried to hide it when it happened but now Rafe knew, had kicked another kids ass over it, and Max knew he wasn't going to let it slide.

"Max," Rafe said again. He could feel the burn of the older boys gaze on him and he almost felt bad for not confiding in him. "How long has this been going on?" Max bit his lip and immediately felt the sting as the skin that had split when he was punched reopened and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He swiped his hand across his chin, catching the blood that had fallen and again found himself studying his hands. It was hard to tell against the dark color of his skin but if you looked close enough you could see it. His blood was red, just like Rafe's, just like his Dad's and his Papa's, just like August Hightower, the kid who had punched him.

So why did they have to treat him so terribly?

"Awhile," he said, staring down at the floor.

Rafe's fists clenched again and when he spoke it was through his teeth.

"Why didn't you tell me? Or at least Dad and Papa, or Uncle Jace and Aunt Clary? They're the heads of the Institute-"

"But would that have changed anything? I'm almost sixteen I don't need you to fight my battles for me." Max said.

"Well, clearly you do." Rafe shot back. "Max, he punched you in the face. And I know Papa's been teaching you defense spells. Even without them, you have years of training. Why didn't you defend yourself?" Rafe's voice had dipped off as though he were in pain and suddenly it was as if all the fight had gone out of Max. His shoulders slumped, his voice barely rising above a whisper even though they were the only people in the hallway. "Because that would have proved him right."

Rafe's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I was talking to Sophia-"

"That girl you like." Raphael's voice had a playful lilt, which disappeared when he saw the look on Max's face.

"I was talking to Sophia after training was over," Max continued. "And August saw. After she left, he got in my face and told me that I didn't have a chance with her because I was demon spawn and no one would want a monster like me." He paused, glaring down at his hands as if he could burn the blue pigment away with his eyes. "You've seen what those defense spells do Rafe. Sending him flying across the room wouldn't have helped anything. Though I guess what I actually did didn't help anything either."

Rafe frowned again. "What did you do?"

"I called him a dick. And so," He gestured to his split lip and the dried blood on his face from his bloody nose. "He punched me in the face. You know the rest."

While Rafe looked pleased that Max had somewhat stood up for himself, Max could feel tears welling up in his eyes. What if August was right? What if what he had said was the truth and no one wanted him?

As if he could read his little brother's mind, Rafe's face became serious. "Max he's wrong-"

"But he isn't!" Max cried, standing from his chair. "C'mon Rafe, you know it, I know it. Even my own mother didn't want me."

Raphael stared at him in stunned silence.

 _Who could ever love it?_

The unspoken words their parents had told them about so many years ago hung in the air between them.

 _It._ Max thought bitterly. _She called you an It. You weren't even a person to your own mother._

Rafe's expression turned to one of fury, and he stood from his own chair, putting his hands on Max's shoulders and almost shaking him. "That is _not_ true. There are tons of people who want and love you. Aunt Clary and Uncle Jace, Aunt Izzy and Uncle Simon, Dad, and Papa, me!" He held up his hand, still bruised and bleeding. "You think I would have messed up my hand this badly, risked getting benched for kicking the crap out of August if I didn't care? Trust me, he'd probably be dead if Uncle Jace hadn't pulled me off him."

His expression softened. "Max, I love you whether you're a warlock, or a Shadowhunter, or whatever. You're my brother." He put his arms around Max then, and even though they were nearly the same height and Max would deny it if anyone ever asked, he buried his face in Rafe's shoulder and allowed himself to cry.

"Boys!" They broke apart as Alec Lightwood-Bane's worried voice filled the hallway, and Max quickly wiped his tears on the back of his hand.

Alec wasn't wearing gear or carrying a weapon but he looked ready to kill some, as did his Papa. Max wasn't sure if it was him and Rafe or August or both.

His dad's eyes widened as they fell on Max. "By the Angel Max what happened to you face?" He reached out to touch him and the warlock leaned away slightly. "Dad, I'm ok." Neither of his parents looked like they believed him. "Blueberry-" Magnus started, nearly pleading with his youngest son, but Raphael cut him off. "There was another kid that was messing with Max but I took care of it." He held up his injured hand and their parents sighed, pulling their boys into a group hug.

"What are we going to do with you two?" Alec asked.

Max smiled but didn't respond and over his Papa's shoulder, he saw Rafe wink at him.

Maybe August didn't like him and maybe Sophia wouldn't want him. But his family did and that was enough.


	7. You Can't Save Everyone

Normally, Alec loved being a Shadowhunter. He loved being able to save people, being able to hunt demons and rid the world of the evil that plagued it. However, he knew his job wasn't perfect. He knew that sometimes a demon got away or a Shadowhunter was injured or an innocent person was killed, but even knowing that didn't stop it from sucking. It didn't stop days like today from being hard.

Today had royally sucked.

He, Jace, Clary, and Simon had been sent on a mission involving a dragon demon at a farm upstate. It was simple; find the demon and kill it with as little collateral damage as possible. It should have been easy.

It wasn't.

When they stepped through Clary's portal onto the property, everything was on fire. The barn, the house, the crops. Everything.

They had split up, Clary and Simon looking for the demon and Jace and Alec searching for survivors. It hadn't taken them long. They had just followed the screams. The family was standing in the yard just outside the house, now a skeleton on the verge of collapse, and a woman was shrieking a girl's name at the top of her lungs.

"Marie! Marie!"

When she saw Alec and Jace, she practically flung herself at them gasping. "Please….please my daughter she's trapped….she's still inside please….you have to help her please."

"Where is she?" Jace asked. In her hysterics, the woman couldn't answer so a boy who had to be her son spoke. "Upstairs bedroom, first door on the left." He might have said something else but Alec didn't hear. He was already running, scrawling a Fire Resistance rune on his arm as he went.

Even with the rune, he could feel the heat of the flames on his skin, scorching his throat as he ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the one the boy had described. He reached to turn the knob but yanked his hand back on instinct. The metal was beginning to melt.

"Marie!" he called. "Marie!" When he got no response, he brought up his foot and kicked the door open, revealing a small pink-painted bedroom. "Marie!" he called and called as he searched the room and the longer he went without a response the more he started to panic. He finally found her in the rooms small closet, unconscious on the floor. The left side of her body was badly burned and her pulse was barely there.

As carefully as possible he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the house just before the structures charred support beams gave out and the whole thing collapsed behind them.

"Alec!" Jace yelled his name as Alec carried the girl as far into the yard as he could and collapsed in the grass. "The demon's gone," Jace said. "Clary and Simon killed it." But Alec was barely paying attention. He was waiting for Marie's heartbeat, which had been there a moment before, to make itself known.

It didn't.

Jace seemed to notice what had happened and crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You can't save everyone." Alec laughed bitterly. The little girl in his arms couldn't have been older than five. Barely older than Max. She should have been able to live. He should have been able to save her.

"Tell that to her family." His voice was angry but Jace didn't flinch. He had been here before.

As if on cue, Marie's family came running with Simon and Clary in tow. "No!" Her mother screamed, collapsing against her husband and sobbing uncontrollably. The boy who had spoken to Alec earlier had tears in his eyes and, after one look at Alec and the body in his arms, turned away looking sick.

"Hey," Jace said quietly. "Marie's brother called 911. We should probably go before they get here." Alec nodded numbly and stood, walking away from the girl and her grief-stricken family, willing himself not to look back.

Alec didn't go back to the Institute after leaving the farm. He knew he should have. He knew the Clave would probably give him hell for not filling out a mission report tomorrow but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted this day to be over.

It was after midnight when he got back to the loft so he knew Magnus and the boys would be asleep and he shucked off his gear and weapons before quietly opening the door to Max and Rafael's room. Both boys were asleep, curled up under their blankets with the soft glow of their nightlight illuminating their faces. Chairman Meow stood glaring at him from the foot of Max's bed, ready to defend the boys from anyone who wasn't where they were supposed to be.

Alec smiled faintly and moved to scratch the cat's head. _Good cat._ He thought. _Keep them safe_. He leaned down to place a kiss on each of his son's heads. Marie's mother's screams rang in his ears, making feel as if he were being repeatedly punched in the gut. If he had been in her position, he didn't know if he would be able to go on living.

But she would have to because she had another child that was depending on her. She would have to despite how painful it was. Alec could feel anger and guilt welling up in his chest and he left the room before it could explode and wake up the boys.

He straightened out the living room in an attempt to clear his head, picking up toys, folding blankets, and putting away dishes. He stopped as he caught sight of a white coffee mug he had put in the sink. It was streaked with something red-brown and as he picked it up to get a closer look, he realized. It was blood. Marie's blood. It was still on his hands, under his nails, a gruesome reminder of the nights short-comings.

Something inside him snapped.

He pulled the mug out of the sink and threw it against the wall, the shards chipping the paint. Magnus would be pissed but Alec didn't care. A little girl was dead.

His knees gave out and he collapsed on the kitchen floor, staring at his hands hopelessly. He was barely aware when Magnus came flying into the room, cat eyes blazing, searching for danger and finding nothing but his husband.

"Alexander, what the hell is going on?"

The blue flame that had been dancing around his fingers went out as he crouched in front of Alec, concern in his features. His eyes widened as he took in the blood and seemed about to panic when Alec spoke. "It's not my blood. It's….it's….there was a girl on the mission….she…." That was when he broke, dissolving into uncontrollable sobs as Magnus pulled him into his chest, too stunned to say more than, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Alec knew that he wouldn't have let Magnus or anyone for that matter do this a few years ago because he was a Shadowhunter. Shadowhunters were supposed to be strong. But he wasn't, not at all. So he sat there on the kitchen floor and let Magnus hold him as he completely fell apart.


	8. Food Poisoning

Jace was absolutely exhausted. He had been out chasing a horde of Ravener demons through Brooklyn all day and all he wanted was to shower and sleep. Well, after he checked on Clary.

She was supposed to come with him and Alec on the mission but had instead spent the morning puking. She had pegged it down to food poisoning but Jace would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. He hadn't seen her this sick since she had gotten hypothermia on a mission two years ago.

Which is why he was surprised to find her standing at her easel, sketching when he opened the door. For a moment, he leaned against the doorframe and watched her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There was a time after the Dark War when he thought she would give drawing up because every sketch was of the awful, violent scenes she saw in her nightmares.

It had taken a long time but eventually, the good memories of the last few years worked to mend the scars the bad ones had left behind. Even her drawings of Jonathan had changed from the black-eyed, demon-blooded monster they had feared to a green-eyed boy only she had known. Jace knew how badly she wished Jonathan had been that boy, and seeing him sketched out made his heart ache for her. But today, the sketch wasn't of her brother. It was of the New York skyline, the moon hanging low over the rooftops.

She hadn't seen him yet, her hips swaying to the music playing through her earbuds, and he pushed off the doorframe, wrapping his arms around her middle. "Hey," he said. "Hi," she pulled her earbuds out, leaning into his touch. "How was the mission?"

"Good. No major injuries." He held out his arms, allowing her to examine the minor ichor burns on his jacket sleeves and frowned slightly. "How are you feeling?" She chuckled at the concern in his voice. "I'm fine. The sickness went away a while ago."

He spun her around so he could see her face and raised his eyebrows questioningly, to which Clary rolled her eyes. "Jace, I promise you I'm shouldn't worry so much." He sighed and pulled her closer, kissing her lightly on the lips. "And you shouldn't tell me to do things that are impossible." She only hummed in response, leaning up to kiss him again.

Regrettably, he had to pull away, the rotting garbage smell of the ichor on his clothes burning his nostrils. "I'm going to take a shower," He said, backing toward the bathroom. He just managed to catch her nod before she stuck her earbuds in and turned back to her sketch.

Once he was in the bathroom he stripped off his gear and stepped into the shower, the steaming hot water washing the ichor and dirt away and soothing his sore muscles. He didn't turn the shower off until the water ran cold and when he stepped back into the bedroom, pulling a gray sweatshirt over his head, he felt goosebumps prickle over his skin.

Clary, upon seeing him come back in the room, turned to say something to him when all the color drained from her face and her knees crumpled from beneath her.

He barely had time to catch her before she hit the floor.

"Clary?" he asked, shaking her gently. "Clary, can you hear me?"

She didn't move and Jace felt the panic rising in his chest as he brought his fingers up to the pulse point in her throat, a massive sigh of relief escaping him when he felt her heartbeat flutter beneath his fingertips. "Jace, what's going on?" Isabelle asked coming into the room with Simon at her heels. "She collapsed." Jace looked up at his wife's parabatai, silently pleading with him to give him something, _anything._ "What's happening?"

Simon just shook his head. "I don't feel anything." He had just started to draw an iratze on Clary's forearm when her eyes opened and she blinked, wincing against the glare of the witchlight. "What happened?" she asked. "You collapsed." Jace helped her sit up, propping her against the foot of their bed and handing her a glass of water off their nightstand. She sipped it slowly, some of the color returning to her face.

Jace pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, unable to push down the worry that was eating away at him. "Guess it wasn't food poisoning huh?" She joked half-heartedly. He couldn't bring himself to laugh. Clary had told him that morning, when she had been so sick she could barely pick herself up off the bathroom floor, that she was fine, that they didn't need to call Magnus, but now Jace was thinking they didn't have a choice.

"Clary I really think we should call Magnus." She didn't fight him on it, just nodded slowly and he should have been relieved. Instead, it only scared him more.

A week had gone by and, though Magnus had said there was nothing 'physically' wrong with her, Clary's illness persisted. Magnus had said that it was due to the exhaustion and stress of running an Institute but Jace wasn't buying it. Maryse had run the New York Institute for over twenty years and raised four kids on top of that. Jace had seen stressed and this wasn't it.

Simon and Izzy must not have believed it either because that morning before Jace and Alec left for a Clave meeting, they offered to take Clary to the Silent Brothers and promised to call him if they heard anything.

The wait was giving Jace anxiety.

He was barely paying attention to what was being said at the meeting, checking his phone every few minutes and he could tell he was driving Alec crazy. Eventually, while Maia was trying to fill them in on a rogue werewolf they were trying to catch, Alec pulled him aside and whispered " Jace just go home. Be with Clary. I had Magnus make you a Portal."

Jace didn't think he had ever been so grateful for Alec in his life.

He got to the Institute just before Clary, Simon, and Izzy did and when they walked through the door he was pacing the hallway. Clary had tear tracks on her face, her eyes puffy and red from crying and Jace's heart stopped, his mind jumping to the worst conclusions.

But Simon and Izzy didn't look concerned. They looked….happy?

"Hey," he said, stopping his pacing to wrap his arms around his wife. "What's wrong? Are you ok?" Clary nodded, wiping her eyes with her hands. "Yeah I'm ok, I'm just….I'm really happy." Jace frowned confused. It got worse when Simon and Izzy looked at him then each other and grinned. "Does someone want to tell me what's going on?" Clary sighed, rolling her eyes at the panic in his voice.

"That 'food poisoning' I had, wasn't food poisoning. I'm pregnant."

For a moment everything came to a standstill and Jace just stared at her, his eyes drifting from her face to her stomach and back again.

She was pregnant.

They were going to be _parents._

They had talked about it, starting a family, after they got married but it had always seemed so far off. Despite all the years she had been a Shadowhunter Jace knew that a big part of Clary was still mundane, that she wanted to wait to have kids so she could live enough of her own life before they brought another one into the world.

Now that it was happening, he wasn't sure what to do.

"Jace?" At some point, the smile had slipped off Clary's face and she was staring at him, concern etched into her features. "Are you ok?" He laughed, a grin splitting his face, and threw his arms around her. "Yeah, I'm….we're….I just…." he broke off, laughing at his inability to speak. "I love you so much." Clary stretched up on her toes and kissed him softly. "I love you too."

He knelt down in front of her and placed a kiss on her stomach. "Hi baby, it's your dad." Another kiss. "I can't wait to meet you." He had thought about this day before, thought that when he found out he would be worried or scared. He realized now that scared was an understatement.

He was fucking _terrified_.


End file.
